


fools on parade

by misslou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Boats and Ships, Drunkenness, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Pirate Harry, Pirate Louis, Pirates, larry - Freeform, lourry, pirate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslou/pseuds/misslou
Summary: Harry Styles is one of the most infamous pirates of the age, ruling the seas with his suave manner and charming good looks. Every other captain in the land dared not interfere with his blundering and control over much of the ports and territories for fear of his wrath that came with the competition. When a new captain takes to the seas, a brazen Englishmen named Louis Tomlinson, and sets out to make Harry and his crew crumble beneath him, an unpredictable tale unfolds that would go down in history for eons to come.Or, a pirate tale filled with greed, lust, anger, and a lot of swearing.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry awoke from his slumber, blinking open his eyelids and squinting a bit against the golden ray of sunlight that flooded in from his port window. He was reluctant to move, even though the small bed in his quarters was not the most comfortable thing in the world, it was cozier than any place else on his ship. 

Harry was not like many of the other common ship captains of the age. He could think of a few he had met in island pubs or at tropical ports, bearing ratty beards and missing teeth as they puffed on a pungent cigar drooping from their lips. Most of them looked as if they were against the thought of hygiene, and the only instance when water would cleanse their face would be through a sudden rainfall. 

Harry Styles was the captain of his pirate ship, _Sheba_. He had joined a scraggly group of dirty men in his early teenage years, running away from his home in a small English town that bordered the St. Luke’s Chapel. He scrubbed the deck countless times, killed dozens of rats in the rum cellars, and polished the swords of all the privateers for years, up until the eventual capture and hanging of the _Sheba’s_ fearless captain. Much to his surprise, the crew elected Harry to be the new captain at the young age of 19. He didn’t deny the proposition - being the captain of a fearless band of criminal pirates was the subject of any boy’s fantasy. 

Harry knew how different he was from many of the pirate captains at the time. He kept his quarters spotless, always taking time to sweep the floors and eradicate the vermin before he went to sleep. He only drank on land or after celebrating a flawless victory over an enemy ship, and even then, consumed a small enough amount to not achieve drunkenness when his responsibility of leading a group of men still held true. He didn’t care to interfere himself with women too much because he felt too guilty stopping their advances after nothing more than a one night stand. Harry, in every instance, was not a pirate, but he was the damn best there was in the seven seas. 

With an off-putting yawn, Harry pushed himself out of his hardened bed in the back of his living quarters. He closed his eyes, giving in to a powerful stretch - pursing his plump, pink lips as he did so. Another day meant another opportunity for wealth and prestige over the other pirates in the area that dreamt of one day conquering the great Harry Styles. Most of them were too intimidated to even try, and the ones who did, crumbled underneath Harry’s sauve and egotistical way of domination. 

Harry straightened his loosely fitted white blouse that bunched up around his elbows and was unbuttoned to reveal a large section of his hairless chest. He wore a necklace that adorned the Catholic cross around his neck that was almost always visible due to his choice of revealing clothing. He would only wear the magnificent, intricate styled captain coats during a conflict, so he could invade the enemy ship with an aura of smug confidence as he conquered his enemy. 

With a sneer, Harry reached for his tight-fitting, black pants that he had hung over the back of a desk chair and slid them onto his long-johns. He stepped into his almost knee-high black boots, grabbed his baroque guitar that was placed in the corner of the room, and pushed open the quarter door into the bright sunlight that awaited him outside. 

Upon his arrival, the crew working the outside deck let out an amused cheer at the entrance of their captain. Harry beamed as he soaked in their applause, casting a sideways smirk as he strummed the strings of his instrument and made beautiful music to join the air that was already accompanied by the calls of gulls. 

“Good morning lads,” Harry spoke in a voice that was as smooth as the pearls he stole from the hands of others. His white teeth refracted the sunlight, only slightly enough to give him a more illuminating glow. “I’m trusting that we are all well today.” 

“Good morning sire,” greeted the chipper voice of Harry’s first mate, a tall and scruffy man by the name of Willahelm Payne, whom Harry referred to as ‘Liam’. Liam came from a history of wealthy parliament officials, all of whom were highly trusted and depended upon by the monarchy. Harry had found Liam washed up in a pub, spilling his sorrows into his drinks due to his unwillingness to carry on his family’s lineage. He had decided to join Harry rather quickly into their conversation and was deemed important enough to serve as second-in-command due to his quick wits and sensible head. 

“Are we set to make landfall in Port Royal today, lads?” Harry asked with a devilish grin, still picking away at the baroque in his hands. 

“Aye,” replied a voice from above - Niall Horan, who was captain Harry’s navigator. He was a sensible Irishman who had been on the crew since Harry had joined them all those years ago. He was extremely skilled at reading a map, deciphering a compass, and reading the stars in order to get the boys to whatever location they aimed for. “Should be before noon.” 

Port Royal was a haven for all the pirates of the age. It was set in tropical waters, far from European soil, but was a utopia for taverns, loot, and scouting new crew members. Harry had made the ultimate decision to leave England in search for more fruiting opportunities in the new world quite some time ago, which had proven to be time well spent. 

“Good to hear,” Harry commented with a nod of his head, his curly hair ruffling a bit as a maritime breeze ran through it. He moved his green eyes towards the sea, grinning as he lost himself in the countless shades of blues and greens in the water. The pastel sky was cloudless, and he could see a few gulls circling about, which was a tell-tale sign of nearby land. “It’s time we show these washed up scoundrels who some real pirates are.” 

Harry was met with another uproar of cheers from his crew. He often was impressed with how well-liked he was by all the men and his notorious reputation for being too charming to contest with. He could feel the swooning gazes of the women as he strolled through a port city as they quickly fanned themselves, aweing over his curled, brown locks and blindingly white teeth. Harry could never lie and say that he didn’t gush over the attention. 

“What are we going to do in Port Royal, sire?” asked Liam, holding a broom in his hand. 

Harry shrugged, plucking his instrument and meeting Liam’s questioning glance. “Anything we want, dear Willahelm.” 

Smiling widely, Liam quickly scurried away to help the rest of the crew sweep away dirt from the deck of the ship. Harry took a few steps forward, propping his leg up on a bench and leaning forward as he strummed the baroque guitar, his green eyes glistening in the morning sun that shone overhead. He let a soft hum escape his lips, letting the gentle noise intertwine with the velvety chords that were being emitted from the strings on the lute. The smooth music seemed to dance across the rocking waves of the ocean, filling the air with an ethereal ambiance that shrouded every crew member in a calm sense of peace. 

After a few blissful moments of the serene strumming, Harry laid his instrument on the wooden bench and moved back to the center of the deck, his black boots clacking against the wood. He peered over the working men aboard his ship, mindlessly working at cleaning or polishing. His men were pretty diligent at repairing the ship after a hasty fight or cleaning after a strong storm. The Sheba hadn’t been involved in any naval battles in a while, and Harry was itching to get back to firing the cannons and plundering ships on a never ending conquest for more wealth.

“Best hope no one is waitin’ for you there, cap’n,” Liam spoke in a soft voice from behind Harry. Though his voice was lilty and gentle, there was a sense of concern that rang deep in his words. “Your name is common around these parts.” 

Harry nodded, licking his lips and turning his head around to meet Liam’s worried gaze with an uplifting smirk, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. “Quit your worrying, Liam,” the captain spoke in a low tone, his green eyes ablaze with sunlight and a confident spirit. “The most conflict in Port Royal is seen in the taverns. Any smart pirate takes it to the seas - to No Man’s Land.” 

Liam nodded, moving his dark brown glance downwards to the floorboards. “Aye, cap’n,” he responded in a respectful manner. “You just never know who wants you dead.”

Harry looked upwards towards the sky, nodding his head a bit. “M’sure a lot of folks want me dead,” he said wistfully, biting his lip. “But that just makes everything more exciting now, aye?” 

“I s’pose you’re right,” Liam responded with a sigh. “Been awhile since we’ve handled a fight.” 

Harry nodded in agreement, turning his head again to glance back out at the sunlight dancing across the waters. “And when a fight comes,” he started, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll be ready.”

* * *

“Cheers, lads!” 

Louis clinked his jar of rum with those of his crewmates before downing half of the fiery liquid and slamming it down on the table. He was met with drunken cheers from all of those in the tavern, a distant sound of a flute and lute combination making warbled music from the corner of the pub. 

Louis Tomlinson, a shorter than average young man with dark stubble adorning his chin, was the captain of a pirate ship called the _Eye of Islands_. Though small, the man was a brassy individual who never denied a fight of any kind. He could hold down any type of liquor and would go just about any length to get what he wanted. He held a mystical look in his blue eyes, and his narrowed jawline gave him even more of an intimidating look about him.

Louis and his crew were on the newer side when it came to pillaging and rummaging through villages and on the open seas. Even still, every fight was a strong one, and the captain had been starting to get quite the reputation as a force to be reckoned with in the tropical seas. Louis had taken the opportunity to leave his small English town when he had met a pirate in the streets of London who had invited him to join him on the open seas. Louis never looked back since, and in the years to come had been promoted to captain of the _Eye of Islands._

Louis was loud, crude, and vulgar, but was a damn good time when it came to drinking and gambling with his mates. His crew loved him, and so did the mirage of women that greeted him at every port, throwing themselves at his every beck and call. 

Louis had spent most of the morning throwing down a few alcoholic beverages in the tavern after getting some much-needed rest the night before. He and his crew had sailed in the previous night and generously obliged to save the congratulatory drinking until the next day due to the looming exhaustion that had entrapped all of them in it’s wrath. He was feeling the first electric tinges that came with the beginning stages of tipsiness, which led to him smiling and laughing a whole lot more than usual. The busty island girl that was hanging on his arm was a lot farther along than he was, but he didn’t care too much. He really didn’t care at _all_ about the girls he came in contact with. 

“What’s on the agenda today, Lou?” spoke a slurred voice that came from Louis’s first mate, an Arabian man named Zayn Malik. Zayn was a market owner when Louis had met him, working in the poorer areas of London selling bread and pastries. He jumped at the offer to leave his family’s stagnant business of selling food products and left in an instant. He held a fiery spirit, and a sharp tongue - much like Louis’s own. 

Louis took in a sharp breath as he thought, taking another sip of the rum in his jar. “I didn’t have much in mind,” he spoke, his accent thicker than the humidity in the air. “I might visit the markets. Jus’ thought I’d let the crew go where they’d like.” 

Zayn nodded, his jet black hair messy and falling over his forehead. He was wearing a white blouse, unbuttoned near the neck, and a leather vest that unfastened in the front. Zayn always looked effortlessly chic, which was a good quality to own. He chuckled before taking another swig of his drink. “Sounds fine to me,” he responded, his voice smoother than fresh honey. 

Louis gave a sideways glance to the girl hanging on his side, too drunk to keep her head upright. “Sorry, love, m’gonna have to leave you here,” the captain said in a low voice, pushing the wobbly woman away from him and standing to his feet. Louis was dressed in the normal ‘high-profile pirate captain’ attire - wearing a long, burgundy coat with golden fasteners and embroidery over his ivory blouse. The cuffs of the coat were turned upwards at his wrists, revealing more intricate patterns of artistry. His black boots came up to the knees of his tight-fitted, cream colored pants. 

Giving a pat to the drunken woman’s back, Louis walked out of the bar with Zayn behind him. 

The morning air outside was warm and heavy with sounds of the bustling port city moving around them. Gulls were squawking near the docks, girls were cooing at privateers just entering the town, and market owners were calling to draw attention to their shelved items. It was a beautiful day in the tropical town, with colors of blues, greens, and creams being drawn in from the environment that surrounded it. Louis appreciated the view with a fond smile. 

“You heard the news?” Zayn spoke in a hushed voice, drawing Louis’s bright blue gaze to his own. 

Louis was puzzled, furrowing his eyebrows as he spoke. “News?” he questioned, adjusting his jacket collar around his neck. “What news?” 

“Harry Styles and his crew are coming into Port Royal.” Zayn answered, a somber look heavy in his deep brown oculars. 

Louis had heard quite a lot about Harry Styles and his infamous crew. He had never met the man, but he had heard numerous stories of those who were unable to fight off his sheer strength and wit, succumbing to his power and losing their wealth to his greedy hands. Louis had the image of a rough, rugged, burly man in his brain. 

“Where did you hear this?” Louis asked, his lips quivering a bit. He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Harry and his men. There were plenty of accounts of killings and robberies by their hands, and Louis didn’t want to be another statistic. 

“Word travels,” Zayn answered with a shrug. “Just try and not let your loud mouth get us in trouble.” 

“Oh, posh,” Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes at Zayn’s remark. “If this Harry Styles ever thought to brawl with me I’d be the first to land one across his smug face.” 

“You say that now,” Zayn added with a smirk on his lips. “I just don’t want much trouble here. At least, not so soon.” 

“Let’s just wait until he shows face,” Louis said with a devilish smirk. “Then we can settle who really owns the seas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://78.media.tumblr.com/b18eddb257d093992c8acedb071b5839/tumblr_oq5rx2ozj91utbra0o1_540.png i saw this picture and was inspired to create this so enjoy it


	2. Chapter 2

Harry felt the tension in his shoulders release as he listened to the familiar sounds of his men thrashing ropes around and dropping anchors into the water that would be followed by deep splashes. The quaint village of Port Royal was in view and Niall had guided the ship to align with the dock. Harry could see the white sand of the beach and was comforted by the distant sounds of the bustling village people that hurried to go about their day in the heart of the town. It had been a few weeks since he had last step foot in Port Royal, the last visit having ended in a tavern fist-fight. Harry was determined not to have any conflict ruin his current visit. 

After the anchors were hoisted into the water, and the ship was brought as close to the dock as could be, Harry watched as a few of his men helped drop the platform that would allow them to disembark. He could see that most of his men were relieved to be able to set foot on dry land again, and were eager to make their way to the closest tavern to indulge in a pint of rum. Harry thought that he might want to join them later on in the evening. 

“Well, boys, looks like we’re ‘ere.” Harry cooed, his voice low and edgy through the grin on his face. “Please, try not to make a fool out of yourselves in there.” 

Various voices of agreement rose from the crowd as the crew started to exit the ship. Some men that worked the lower chambers of the ship were called from below, grateful to be comforted by the light of day and the rewarding sight of land. They acknowledged Harry with small nods and followed behind the rest of the crew, cheering and jeering. 

“Beautiful work, Niall,” Harry congratulated as he turned to watch Niall take his cap off of his head. Niall beamed with a look of gratitude, bowing to his captain. 

“I think I fancy a good pint of spirits,” Niall replied with a breathy laugh. “Never too early for a pint.” 

Harry smirked, shrugging as Niall freely skipped down a few stairs that separated the navigator’s wheel and the main deck. He dipped his head once more, and disappeared into the crowd of men onto the dock. 

“Come, Liam,” Harry beckoned, flicking his head at his first-mate who was the only man left on the ship, save for Harry. “There’s business I’d like to discuss.” 

“Aye, captain,” Liam answered, following Harry’s pompous stride towards the docks. Harry always walked with an air of confidence about him - his shoulders remained high, his chin pointed upwards at a slight angle, and his hips lightly swaying from side to side. He knew that eyes would be on him as soon as he would be met with those who had heard of the stories. He knew that everyone would be wary of captain Harry Styles, and would watch his every movement as he passed by. 

The naval men who manned the docks of Port Royal parted ways to let Harry and Liam pass them by, giving the duo a curt nod as they passed. Harry rested his right hand on the handle of his sword that was fastened in the loop around the waist of his pants, the silver blade glistening in the sunlight. With a clearing of his throat, Harry spoke - “We’re running low on supplies, I do believe it’s time we start dividing up a plan for an attack.” 

Liam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “An attack? Alright, I do suppose some merchant ships should be leaving towards Europe sometime soon.” 

“We can’t waste time on those merchant ships anymore,” Harry dismissed, furrowing his eyebrows and scrunching up his nose for a brief heartbeat. “Their loot is only temporary. What we need is a naval ship.” 

“Naval ships?” Liam repeated, partly in disbelief. “Naval ships have distinctively more firepower, are you sure captain?”

Harry cast his first-mate a look of determination. “Spanish strongholds are set not too far west,” he began, his voice deep and gravelly. “It shouldn’t be too hard to catch one of their ships alone, making a trip to or from one of the Caribbean ports.” Harry’s explanation caused a reluctant nod of understanding from Liam. “We get them alone, fire first, and bring them to their knees.” 

“I’ll inform Niall, he can devise some probable routes,” Liam replied, speaking softer as the duo left the dock and strolled onto dry land. 

“That would be lovely,” Harry replied with his typical charming smirk. The possibility of dying a fiery death didn’t seem to faze the man - his green eyes still as full of power as ever. It was almost as if a failure was not an option for him, and wasn’t even considered to be anytime soon. 

Harry and Liam strolled pompously into the heart of Port Royal. Natives and privateers were all scampering about - some chasing after women and others making purchases at the markets. Drunken sailors stammered out of the doors of the taverns, slinging themselves past the musicians that strummed their lutes and blew away on their flutes on the corners. 

“Mind if we head towards the tavern?” Harry offered in a silvery tone, dipping his head to a group of women flashing their skirts at him. He threw up his fingers in a sly greeting, the thick silver rings on his fingers shining in the sun. 

Liam shook his head, rubbing the stubble on his chin with his hand. “Not at all, I could use a pint or two.” 

“I just thought I could see if I recognize anyone,” Harry murmured, his voice blending into the background drone of whistles and shouts. “Or if anyone recognizes me.”   
Without another word, Liam and Harry strode towards the most popular tavern in Port Royal - _the Laughing Gull._ The pub was a popular space for pirates and sailors to gather to drink and sing into the odd hours of the night. Drunken fistfights were a common scene, and Harry had once recalled a time where a pirate had slain another in cold blood for a bag of gold. 

Pushing open the doors, Harry breathed in the stale scent of alcohol and dirty men. He let his eyes scan over the dimly lit room, seeing the familiar sights of drunken sailors dancing on table tops and swinging young women under their arms. It amused Harry - the unkempt, dirty looks that the sailors bore was one thing he promised himself he would never let himself succumb to. For numerous years, the captain had set his reputation for being the suave and fearless privateer that sailed the high seas in his clean, white linens and curled brown locks.

Harry’s eyes met with the bartender - a short, stature, heavyset man that went by the initials LK. He was an Irishman with an accent thicker than chowder who sailed across the ocean to start up his own tavern in the established town of Port Royal, somehow able to bribe his way onto an English ship. He quite liked Harry, mostly because of how least-likely to get drunk the captain was, but he also always asked the Englishman for any new stories he had collected while sailing the seven seas. 

“Oi! Captain Harry Styles!” LK exclaimed with a jolly laugh in his belly, the dim and orange tinted candlelight filling his eyes. “Glad you decided to come in!” 

Seated at the bar, Niall Horan raised his pint of beer. Harry dipped his head in response to his navigator, chuckling to himself. “G’Afternoon, LK,” he spoke smoothly, his black boots clacking over the wooden floorboards as he walked closer towards the bartender. “Anything new happening today?” 

LK shook his head as he wiped down the bar in front of him. “I’m ‘fraid not,” the Irishman spoke, a smile forming on his face that was missing a few teeth here and there. “I can pour you some rum if you would like, good sire.”

Harry scrunched up his nose, resting his elbows on the bar and putting his weight on them. Liam shuffled behind him and took a seat at the bar beside Niall. “No hard stuff yet,” Harry answered in a voice like silk. “I’ll take a glass of wine.”

LK nodded his head, turning back towards the wall which held barrels upon barrels of various alcoholic drinks. He grabbed an iron cup from underneath the bar and went towards a particular nozzle, pouring the pirate his drink of choice. He slid the cup of wine towards Harry, who tossed a coin on the table in payment. 

Harry took a large sip of the beverage and hummed as it slid down his throat. He never had the strongest taste for alcohol, like many of the other pirates, but he enjoyed the feeling that a buzz gave to him. Rum seemed to be the popular drink of choice, and Harry often used it to get drunk, but he tended to lean more towards wine or beer whenever he wanted a casual buzz. 

Taking another sip, Harry peered over the men that occupied the bar, searching for a face he had seen before. Most of the faces were familiar, either men he had shared a drink with or men he had almost gotten violent with. Most of the pirates he had battled in the sea tended to avoid the ports he would frequently visit. Most of his ‘enemies’ were too intimidated to even face him again, which Harry didn’t really mind. To him, he didn’t have enemies, just people who were proven to be below him. 

Harry could feel the wary gazes on the side of his face as he looked at his surroundings. He could almost taste the intimidation and envy that was steaming through the heads of some of the men in the room. He knew that those who didn’t want to beat him down wanted to be him, and frankly, he couldn’t get enough of it.

* * *

“ _That’s_ Harry Styles?” 

Louis was in honest disbelief when he had seen the dainty, flower-like man waltz through the door of _the Laughing Gull_. He walked with a primp skip in his step, his brown curls flawlessly bouncing with every clack of his boots. Louis couldn’t help but scowl as he leaned against the bar as if he owned it, looking over the crowd of men with narrowed snake-like eyes. With a groan, Louis downed another mouthful of rum and locked eyes with Zayn who was sitting across the table from him. 

“Are you telling me _that’s_ the shit man everyone is fuckin’ afraid of?” 

“You heard LK shout his name!” Zayn retaliated, hunkering his head down under his shoulders. “Don’t talk so loud Lou.” 

“I’ll fuckin’ talk as loud as I want to, you bloody bloke,” Louis replied hotly, flashing his first-mate an electric blue glance. “I find it a bit hard to believe that the girlish shitface leaning against the bar has made so many pirates fall to their knees.” 

As the fiery words left Louis’s tongue, Harry turned his head to the direction where he sat, his eyebrows furrowed in a contemplative stare. Louis felt his throat swell, partly worried that he had sung his remarks a bit too loudly. In a split second, however, Harry moved his glance over him and away from where he was seated. 

“Louis!” Zayn snapped in a hushed whisper. “You’re gonna get us bloody killed if you keep talking like that.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, mumbling curses under his breath as he took another swig of the rum on the table. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol surging in his veins or the sudden hatred swirling in his stomach, but the man was sure ready to throw a few punches at the grandiose captain at the bar. Just when the smaller sized Brit collected enough courage to do so, Harry pushed himself off the side of the bar and strolled out to the bright outdoors that awaited past the walls of the tavern.

“He’s posh,” Louis scoffed, feeling his nostrils flare up as he shot another icy stare back at Zayn. “He’s a nobody.” 

“He’s certainly a somebody,” Zayn responded with a sigh. “Somehow he’s strong.” 

“Not stronger than us,” Louis replied with a spirited smile on his lips. “Just think, Zayn. If we took down the magnificent Harry Styles, we’d be hailed as the supreme rulers of the British pirate fleet.” 

“Easier said than done,” Zayn commented. “You don’t know what Harry has up his sleeve.”

“He has frilly garments and expensive perfumes probably.” Louis replied amusingly.

Zayn rolled his eyes, letting out a groan of frustration at his captain’s crude remarks. “Lou, this is serious.”

“I couldn’t give a single shit what that flower of a boy has up his sleeves,” Louis said with a snap, standing up at his chair and leaning over the table to look Zayn directly in the eyes. “What I do know is that I’m not going to be outdone by a pompous dick in white linens. We’re going to take him down and we’re going to show him that in order to be big around here, you have to act like a real fucking pirate and not some self-indulged loser. Got that?” 

Zayn nodded, letting his tensed shoulders fall as Louis turned and left the tavern, his boots emitting soft taps as he moved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter but i d c


	3. Chapter 3

Harry awoke, caught slightly off-guard from the look of the dusty room from where he had chosen to spend the night. The inns at port cities never held a hospitable aura, and instead gave a rustic and cramped feel to their rooms, dust usually fluttering past the beams of sunlight that shone in through the window. The beds weren’t any comfier than the captain's cot on the ship, but Harry always enjoyed the feeling of solitude and quietness that the isolated inn room gave him. He was only planning on spending one or two cozy nights at Port Royal anyways before taking to the seas once more to push his plan of attack against the Spanish navy into action. 

Harry sat up in the bed, gazing into the sunlight filtering in through the window that cast a green flame in his eyes the same color of the jungle that surrounded the tropical town. The sun enveloped Harry’s shirtless body with a golden glow, making the captain resemble an angelic deity as he sat and admired the warmth that the sun’s rays gave him. 

After a few quiet moments of contemplation, Harry pushed himself out of the bed and reached for his ivory blouse that he had hung over the chair after giving it a wash with a bucket of soap and water before bed the previous night. He stepped into his black pants, pulled his boots over his feet, and grabbed his leather satchel from its spot on the floorboards. The captain ran his fingers, adorned with quite a few silver and jeweled rings, through the curls of his hair, pushing them back until they rested on the top of his head, a few ringlets managing to fall in front of his forehead. With an inaudible sigh, Harry pushed through the doorway of the room and into the foyer of the inn. 

The innkeepers, an elderly Norwegian couple, were sharing quiet giggles behind the wooden bar that adorned various cheeses and meats for sale on its countertop. A bard was set up in the corner, strumming his baroque and singing a German folk song to which Harry found quite soothing. A few older gentlemen were sat in front of the lit fireplace, bread in their hands and silver cups placed around their feet, most likely filled with some sort of bitter-tasting alcoholic drink.

Harry met the crinkled eyes of the innkeepers as his footsteps creaked on the floorboards. They gave him a polite nod - them too aware of the infamous life Harry had been living, growing a reputation for being the chic yet unforgiving menace that most pirates feared to cross paths with. With a small wave in return, Harry exited the inn and greeted the sunlit morning outside with a crinkle from his nose. 

It was early, for the songbirds were still noisily chattering from the surrounding trees. Vendors were set up in the marketplace, their carts adorning various sets of baubles and food arrangements. The island girls, typically daughters of the tavern and inn owners throughout the city, were giggling amongst themselves in front of storefront windows. Harry pursed his lips at the sight. 

The poised captain was highly aware of the amount of attention received from women at any particular moment in the public eye. He was strikingly handsome, tall, and tanned, with curls that seemed to pick up the island breezes and elegantly fixate themselves on top of Harry’s head. Harry, however, didn’t have much interest in the girls that ports had to offer. Most of them wanted intimacy more than anything else, and the ones that were truly attracted to his looks didn’t care about anything else. A pirate shouldn’t be weighed down by relationships anyways, and sex without love sounded distasteful for Harry. He’d give them a wink as he passed by at the most. 

Squinting against the bright morning sun, Harry began to walk towards the center of town - towards the marketplace. He enjoyed purchasing a ring from each meaningful visit as some sort of memorabilia. The ones he didn’t wear on his fingers were tied around small chains to be worn around his neck or given to his crew members. Some jewelers had more unique finds than others, and Harry never wanted to miss out on the chance to own a quite marvelous new addition to his collection of rings. 

As he walked, Harry’s mind began to wander into the thoughts of his upcoming heist against the Spanish navy. The last time he had tried his hand at overcoming a naval ship, he lost quite a few crew members and suffered bad damages to the _Sheba_. He was weaker then and had taken on a lot more than he could chew at the current time. He believed he was stronger now and would be enough to decimate his opponent, but the nerves of the attack were starting to eat away at his stomach. 

Harry was too lost in thought to focus on what was in front of him. He was snapped back into the reality of the moment as his shoulders collided with those of a man who was significantly shorter than he was. 

“Watch it, pal!” the smaller man retorted. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked down, meeting the electric blue glance of a man with scruffy facial hair but a jawline sharper than broken glass. He watched the man’s eyes widen, possibly with recognition, and felt his mouth go agape as his thoughts came to a halt and were unable to devise up any words to say in return. 

The man’s sky-blue eyes suddenly narrowed. “You’re that Styles boy, aren’t you?” he muttered, his accent thick but the hostility in his tone masking any advances of camaraderie. 

“I am,” Harry bellowed, pushing his shoulders back. 

The man scoffed, stepping back on his heels a bit. His smile was one of abhorrence, which Harry was no stranger to encountering. A lot of men were jealous of his reputation and wealth, which led to a lot of animosities upon meeting others. “You’re that cocky British pirate that thinks they own e’ffreything! Harold, right?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. The man certainly had a sharp tongue, sharper than any other he had talked to, especially on the first meeting, which surprised Harry quite a bit. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything negative to the man to fire him up so intensely. “It’s Harry,” he corrected, his green gaze as hard as steel and locked with the ornery man in front of him. “And you are?” 

“Louis,” the scruffy man scoffed. “Louis Tomlinson.”

“Well, Louis,” Harry started, adjusting his blouse before opening his mouth slightly to run his tongue along the front of his canine teeth, grinning slightly. “Glad we’re off to a good start.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, moving his electric glance to the left, pursing his lips subtly. “You’ve got a name for yourself, Harry,” he spoke, the words rolling off his tongue in an effortless manner of poise. “Heard you’re undefeatable.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Did ya now?” he replied with a toothy grin. “We all have our failures-”

“Look, Harry,” Louis snapped, standing up on his toes to get closer to the taller pirate he was confronting. “I don’t know what you’ve got under your sleeve, but you best start watchin’ yourself around here,” he snarled, the heat rising in his voice. “Especially if you go after that Spanish navy ship.”

Harry felt his stomach flip. “How do you-”

“Watch it, pretty boy.” Louis muttered before pushing past Harry and disappearing into the crowd of locals that had been mingling around them.

Harry turned, watching Louis disappear into the crowd, wondering how on _earth_ the stranger had gotten ahold of such confidential information. It worried him, not that Louis was much of a threat, but that his secretive agenda was now being watched and tracked by a competitive lad with a sharp tongue and a short temper. Harry was always aware that he had enemies, but this was the first that he knew by name. 

Harry seemed to lose himself in the crowd, watching the spot where Louis had disappeared long after he was already gone. The scruffy man was different - like a book with many chapters and layers that had to be carefully turned and analyzed before proceeding to the next. His tone had expressed his displeasure with Harry, but the mystery in his eyes held something more - something else. Harry was interested, but also extremely curious as to how Louis had gotten ahold of his plan. The only men that knew about it besides Harry were Liam and possibly Niall.

Harry collected his composure, giving shifting glances to the people around him and suddenly becoming unaware of how long he had stayed in his stationary position. Feeling his mouth as being a bit dry, Harry walked swiftly towards the Laughing Gull in hopes for a strong drink and hopefully one of his crewmates with a few answers.   
Upon pushing through the doors, Harry was relieved to see Liam hunched over the bar, drunkenly laughing alongside a tan-skinned man with an Arabian complexion. 

Harry moved over rather quickly towards him. “Liam, Jesus Christ, Liam,” he exhaled, placing a hand on his mate’s shoulder and looking down at his glassy eyes. “It’s not even noon yet you bloody idiot.” 

“M’sorry, cap’n,” Liam slurred, his typical cheeky smile plastered on his face. “Was feelin’ like I had nothin’ else to do,” 

“What you need to do is not make my crew and I look like messy asshats,” Harry groaned, adjusting Liam’s crooked vest. 

“This is Zayn,” Liam mumbled, looking over at the slender, dark-haired man that was drunkenly perched beside him. “He’s a first mate too, like me!” 

“Zayn,” Harry repeated, looking over at the Arabian man who gave a soft smile. “Who is your captain?” 

“Louis,” Zayn replied with a chuckle, his deep brown eyes wet with insobriety. “Short, brown hair, he’s kinda mean,” 

“Oh, fuck me,” Harry exclaimed with a roll of his eyes. “Liam, what have you been talking with Zayn about?” 

“I told ‘em about our thing,” Liam replied with a hiccup. “M’think Lou came in, then left, I think it was Louis. Have you met Louis?” 

“Yes, I fucking met Louis,” Harry griped. “You’re useless, Liam. You don’t go around telling our secrets or getting drunk in the bloody middle of the day you sack of shit.”

“Sorry cap’n,” Liam slurred, his smile still widely planted on his face. “You should be friends with Louis, he can come with us, Zayn is a good guy-”

“Shut it, Liam,” Harry stated, pushing away from the barstool his first mate was sat on and angrily stomping out of the tavern and into the light outside.

“Am I the only one with common sense on my damn ship?” Harry whispered to himself, adjusting his blouse and hurrying away back to his room at the inn to devise up a new plan of attack - not towards the navy ship, but towards his newfound acquaintance at Port Royal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter cause the next one is gonna be in a new setting and all that and i was getting tired of this part of the story lol


End file.
